Random bitching.

I've gotten away from posting so much. I've honestly gotten away from caring so much. I'm not hardly working out, I'm working entirely too much still. I'm as stressed out as I can get. And quite frankly, I've gotten hell for what I've written and found myself being skittish about putting up my real thoughts on here, because of how they're read. That's not my intent. I started it originally so people could keep track of that race. I kept it going as a way to track what I was doing and a place to vent. I'm not interested in censoring my thoughts, feelings or opinions. I don't like hearing immediate feedback on it either.

So there are other outlets I suppose. Or maybe there aren't and I just am not dealing with any of it. Either way, I'm pissed off at the world. I know it could be worse, sure. I've got the house, the bills, the dogs, the bikes, the jobs, etc. But I want more. I want to not feeling like a damn salmon half the time, or like I'm the only one that knows what the hell is going on with the computer, or like I'm the only one that can be relied on, or that I'm the only one doing anything. Hell, I'm one person. ONE. Maybe there are others that can be super mom, super friend, super co-worker, super spreadsheet guru, super drinker and super athlete and super girlfriend. It's not me. Yeah, I'm selfish, but I'm sick of being the cruise director, the travel agent, the geek squad, the responsibility and the financial planner. I'm sick of it. SICK. OF. IT.

Maybe I want to be coddled, I want to be loved, I want to be needed. I want my damn happily ever after and I want to walk into work, feel important, feel needed and feel like I love my job. Not like my boyfriend (boyfriend, really?) hates me, my boss is annoyed with me, the client hates me, the roommate is annoyed with me and the dogs would rather be with anyone else BUT me. I'm feeling a failure at the house and the job and the life and even the sports. And you know what? I don't want to hear about how I'm not any of those things. So I don't want to be coddled and I don't want to be needed and I don't want to be everything to everyone. I can't. I won't.

I think I'm the definition of depression and anger. I know I'm the definition of PMS. I've recently been the definition of poor decisions as well. I'm the friggin' trifecta of joy, aren't I? I promise that if you reply, if you give me hell, if you immediately ask how I'm doing, what I'm doing, when I'm going, where I'm going, who's going to be there, what we did, how I feel or what I want or how to freaking do something, I'm going to scream, cry and take it all out on you. Yeah, it could be worse. It could always be worse. But right now it could be a hell of a lot better.

Just. Go. Away. I'm sick of trying to be who I am. I'm not even sure anymore what that is, but I'm pretty sure I'm not doing a very good job of it right now. I just want a break and I want to be happy. And screaming, crying, having this rough patch of crap over with. I'm almost 30 and I'm sick of being stuck in the middle of the beginning of my life.